


Hit

by yeaka



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Zack’s woken up by Sephiroth’s ferocity.





	Hit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s woken from a sound sleep by the crick of the door, too unsubtle to be some silent assassin. Zack tenses anyway, instantly trying to sit up in bed and rubbing his eyes with one palm—but he’s barely made it up before he’s shoved back down again. He’s flattened hard enough into the mattress to whip the breath right out of him.

A thick weight settles over him, everywhere from his shoulders to his toes. Long fingers snake around his wrists, pinning them to either side of his pillow. A familiar voice purrs into his ear, “May I?”

Shivering, Zack mutters, “Yeah.” He’s never once said no. It isn’t just that he’s dealing with a superior officer, but that the hard lump grinding into his backside brings on a swell of good memories. The scent of sheer _sex_ assaults his nostrils, even yet unfulfilled—Sephiroth _reeks_ of it like this.

Sephiroth’s always been one big, walking temptation, but it’s so much worse when he’s _in heat_. Zack doesn’t fully understand the mechanics. He doesn’t know why this one SOLDIER has that side effect, with nothing like it in all the others. The ‘why’s’ don’t really matter. What matters is that Sephiroth picked _him_ to come to. Maybe there are other rooms Sephiroth goes to in between. Maybe he only visits Zack when he’s already run Genesis and Angeal ragged, but Zack’s still grateful. Enormously, horribly grateful. Sephiroth’s silken hair tickles his cheek as blunt teeth part wide around his bare shoulder, and then Sephiroth’s biting down hard enough to bruise.

Zack always has bruises afterwards. The finger-shaped grooves around his hips from last month still haven’t fully faded. He wears them like badges of honour. As far as he’s concerned, Sephiroth’s a true _hero_ , animalistic heats or no, and Zack’s happy to be a help to him, to satiate him when it’s all too much. 

And Zack, of course, loves the sex. He loves the way Sephiroth jerks the blankets away, teeth still embedded in Zack’s shoulder, until there’s nothing between them but all of Sephiroth’s dark metals and leather. Zack sleeps in just his boxers, but Sephiroth hooks a thumb in either side of those and pulls them down too, slipping along Zack’s ass to let him feel the smooth surface of Sephiroth’s jacket bit-by-bit. He can feel the exacting outline of Sephiroth’s cock, too engorged like this to be properly hidden. It rubs between his crack as Sephiroth leaves the boxers stretched between Zack’s thighs, and then he finally wrenches off Zack’s shoulder with a feral rumble—Zack cries out in mild pain. Sephiroth licks over the marks right afterwards—Zack’s sure the whole area’s flushed red with blood.

His cheeks are flushed, his mouth dry, and if he had a tenth of the patience Angeal’s always teasing him about, he’d probably just bear it and wait. But he doesn’t, and he can’t stop himself from nuzzling into Sephiroth’s face, bucking his hips up—he wants to be turned around, so he can take Sephiroth’s tongue into his mouth and quench his thirst through a string of searing kisses. But Sephiroth’s on a mission and just shoves him down harder, pinning him in place. Zack can’t do anything but squirm and moan, so he does, in between little bitten-off swears. 

He can hear the rustling of clothes that signals Sephiroth’s stripping. It’s done with efficient skill, even held down against Zack like this. There’s a flicker of annoyance that comes with it—Zack wants to help, wants to _watch_ ; he’s an active person, not some blow-up doll. He has to remind himself of Sephiroth’s rank and heat to get himself through it. What must it be like, every so often, to go absolutely mad with _lust_? He gets horny all the time, but he can’t imagine it being so all-consuming as it is for Sephiroth. It’s a little scary to think about it, but also _fun_ —exhilarating—Angeal would scold him for that, but it is what it is—Zack might like to _live for sex_.

He feels the final material go, the black fabric stretched across Sephiroth’s waist slipping down, and then he can feel the long, hard line of Sephiroth’s cock digging right between his cheeks. It’s probably the largest dick he’s ever seen—easily the largest he’s ever had. But he still leans eagerly into it and groans as Sephiroth’s hands, glove-free, come down to knead his cheeks around it. He knows Sephiroth came with oil, because Sephiroth always does. It’s probably for the best—Zack might forget or just not be bothered. He’s already hard himself, rubbing helplessly at the mattress below, and he just wants it _now_.

He could almost think that some of Sephiroth’s heat does spread, that it’s contagious somehow, except that he knows Sephiroth always gets him hard—even back when it was just idle daydreams about fucking a hero. When Sephiroth’s slick finger first thrusts into his twitching hole, he screams just, “ _Yes!_ ”

Sephiroth’s maddening slow about it, even as the rest of him sets back to work—his hungry mouth covering Zack’s neck and shoulders in kisses—biting and licking—the other hand twisting in Zack’s hip. The single digit pushes in too gradually, trying to stretch and stroke him, spreading the cool oil everywhere. Zack writhes on it, whining too incoherently for _more_. By the time Sephiroth’s finally adding a second figure, Zack’s got tears in the corner of his eyes. He’d have already come, ever-excitable as he is, if Sephiroth weren’t pinning him down too fiercely to provide proper friction. As it is, he’s just lying in a growing stain of precum. Sephiroth worms the free hand beneath him, only to cup his pulsing cock and chuckle at finding it so stiff.

Sephiroth gives it a fierce squeeze, wracking a broken cry from Zack, musing, “Angeal’s eager little puppy... you never disappoint, Zack.”

Somehow, Zack manages to pant, “Thanks, Sir.” It’s broken off a second later as a third finger stabs into him, and he’s stretched exactly as wide as he’ll need to take in a monster cock like Sephiroth’s. Sephiroth keeps his cock cruelly trapped in the meantime, as though defying him to find any pleasure before they’ve really started.

Then the fingers are withdrawing, dragging oil with them, and the spongy head of Sephiroth’s cock is nudging against Zack’s entrance. He barely has time to breathe before it’s thrust inside him, sinking horribly far on the first go—but Zack just screams and wants _more_.

Sephiroth gives it to him in full, rhythmic thrusts, graceful even in the throes of passion—Zack dizzily watches the silver strands withdraw and pool again on his pillow with each of Sephiroth’s movements. The bed slaps the wall when Sephiroth fills him, creaking again when Sephiroth pulls back. Sephiroth goes deeper every time, until it feels like there’s just nowhere left, and he’s buried to the base inside Zack’s body. Zack can’t stop shuddering. His hips are beyond his control, wantonly thrusting back to meet each blow he’s given. The full slide of Sephiroth’s cock against his walls is almost too much to take, burning as it stretches him so wide, but he savours every dual sensation. He wonders how long he’ll be able to stay conscious this time.

Hopefully, at least for a few rounds. He was over-confident the first time; he told Sephiroth he would take _everything_ that Sephiroth could give. But Sephiroth _ravaged_ him, and he passed out after the first time he came, only to wake up in the middle of the night and find Sephiroth still pounding him into the mattress. He’s tried to last longer and longer ever since. He’s getting better. Stronger. But Sephiroth is too powerful and beats him down every time. 

Sephiroth occasionally pumps his cock but holds it fast in between, stopping every time Zack thinks he’s just at the edge. Sephiroth takes him there so quickly, then refuses to let him go, until he’s hazily withered back down into a more manageable level. Sephiroth’s other hand reaches around his stomach to tweak his nipples, and Zack yelps when Sephiroth first twists it. Sephiroth groans in his ear and fucks him harder, if that’s even possible. 

It seems to go on forever, but not long enough, until Sephiroth is growling like a beast and rattling the bed so hard that Zack’s sure it’ll break—this’ll be the night Sephiroth shatters the springs and fucks Zack right down into the floor. In his current sex-crazed stupor, he likes that idea. But Sephiroth’s hips stop suddenly, halting mid-thrust, and he hisses and switches to grinding them in—a warm swell of cum starts flooding into Zack’s ass. He groans as he’s filled past capacity. Sephiroth always comes a ridiculous amount, and Zack doesn’t know if that’s just from the heat or not, because he’s never had this privilege outside of it. Sephiroth’s orgasm seems to last and last, while his fingers maintain a vice-like grip on Zack’s cock that keeps him from following. He tries to just accept that—it’s for the best—it’s so Sephiroth can fuck him again in a few minutes with him still fully invested.

But Zack whines anyway, “ _Hnng_ , please—” only for Sephiroth to slap his hip hard. Zack yelps and reduces his pleas to whimpering while Sephiroth pounds in enough seed to go slipping out around the seams. It drizzles down between his cheeks to paint his balls and the sheets—Zack knows he’ll be glued in place by the time Sephiroth’s done with him.

Sephiroth slumps over him at the end of it. Sephiroth’s silent for a moment, heavy and presumably satiated, burning hot and slick with sweat. Then he purrs, “Good puppy,” and starts up all over again.


End file.
